


Understanding

by missbecky



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 17:02:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1695776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbecky/pseuds/missbecky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It isn't the kind of thing they talk about. Like so much of what they go through, they choose silence over the words, because silence is easier. Simpler.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Understanding

**Author's Note:**

> Contains major spoilers for the Annihilation Conquest arc. Possibly minor spoilers for Original Sin, but mostly just my own speculation.

They're just sitting around one night, telling stories as they often do, when the subject comes up of enemies. The ones that just never seem to go away, the ones who always find a way to come back and hit you one more time.

"Ultron," Tony groans. "I never ever want to see that shiny metal face again."

Beside him, Peter jerks in his chair like someone just kicked him. Tony starts to ask him what that was all about, when Rocket hisses, baring sharp teeth. "Oh, great."

"I am Groot," Groot says mournfully.

Peter gets up. "I gotta check on the…" He makes a gesture over his shoulder. "Yeah." Then he's gone.

Tony looks back at the group. "What?"

Rocket and Groot exchange a look. Tony knows that look. It's the way people look at each other who have been through something only they can understand. It's a look that says no matter how much of the story they might choose to share with outsiders, there will always be multiple layers that they don't share. That they simply _can't_ talk about.

"Yeah, we've had the pleasure of his company before, too," Rocket mutters. "Matter of fact, that's how we met."

"I am Groot," agrees Groot.

"He damn near ended us," Rocket says. He shakes his head. "Wasn't for Mantis, that krutacking bastard would've killed Quill."

Tony goes cold all over. Then red-hot. "What are you talking about?" He says it quietly. Not shouting. Not demanding.

He intends to have his answer, though. He will hear this story. He will find out the truth.

****

He finds Peter on the bridge, his expression grim, his eyes unfocused. He's cleaning his weapon, rubbing it down with a cloth even though it's already polished to a high gloss. His movements are mechanical; it's obvious he doesn't even know what he's doing.

"Hey," Tony says softly.

Peter jumps to his feet. He's got the gun turned around and half-aimed at Tony within seconds. Then he blinks, and he realizes where he is and what he's doing, and he lowers the gun with a grunt. "Sorry."

"No worries," Tony says. He's been there himself before. Hell, they all have. It's part of the job description, somewhere in the fine print that no one bothers to read until it's too late.

He got the story he wanted, all right. Normally when Rocket Raccoon tells a story featuring himself (and sometimes the other Guardians) as a hero, he embellishes grandly, tacking on detail and making everyone look good.

Not this time.

This was a much shorter story. How the Guardians came together as criminals, thinking they were going to be facing the Phalanx – only to discover that their true enemy was Ultron. How Ultron captured Peter and tortured him, and only Mantis's telepathic abilities enabled him to hold out long enough to live to be rescued. How they managed to defeat Ultron and live to tell the tale – most of them, anyway.

 _I never knew,_ Tony thinks. And probably he would have gone on not knowing. Because it isn't the kind of thing they talk about. Like so much of what they go through, they choose silence over the words, because silence is easier. Simpler.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't know."

Peter gives him a tight smile as he holsters his weapon. "It's fine. How could you?"

"Rocket told me," Tony says, because it's important that he make that clear. Of the assembled Guardians now, only Rocket had been there. Only Rocket had seen.

Only Rocket could have told the full story.

Peter's mouth twists downward. "I suppose it's too late to kick him out the airlock."

"Well, that's between you and him," Tony says. He does his best to keep his voice light. Like he doesn't completely understand the impulse to be rid of the people in your life who have seen you at your worst.

But then again, sometimes those are the very people you need to surround yourself with. The ones who saw you at your lowest – and who are still there for you anyway. The ones who saw you when you were forced to flee your entire planet, running from everyone who wanted to kill you. The ones who opened their ship, and their arms, to you and gave you refuge.

"I _am_ sorry," he says. "And if—"

"It's fine," Peter says again, a bit louder this time. "Besides, it happened years ago. I'll get over it."

"I don't want you to have to get over it," Tony says honestly. In their line of work, time travel is almost always something that comes up – although usually when it's least wanted. Still, maybe someday he'll get the chance to put Ultron on the scrap heap for good, and make sure the monster never gets to sink his claws into Peter. "I don't want there to be an 'it' at all that you need to get over."

"Well, me either, but we both know that's not how it works," Peter sighs.

"No," Tony says. "I guess it's not."

There's really no way to say, _I've been there. I understand._ And Tony knows that even if there were, he would fail miserably at it. He uses words to program computers and build things, not build relationships. So he doesn't try now. He knows perfectly well what he is good for, and where his strengths lie, and comforting someone who clearly doesn't want or need it is not one of them.

He doesn't say anything more on the subject. But he doesn't go away, either. He remains with Peter the rest of the evening, fiddling with the tech behind the communicator the Guardians gave him, a silent presence keeping Peter from being alone.

And later that night, when Peter sits up in bed with a strangled scream and crumples forward, clutching at his head, Tony is still there. Holding him in the soft darkness until the cold shaking subsides, and Peter is warm and relaxed in his arms. Saying it the only way he knows how.

_I've been there. I understand._

_I am here for you._


End file.
